Bad Lot

I stare out my window,
And watch the rain fall,
I hear the wind blow,
And it makes me feel small.

The storm outside,
Like the storm inside of me,
Makes me feel like I’m on a ride,
Like a ship on a rough sea.

It is a rough ride,
Full of darkness and storms,
Where I feel like I’m either dead,
Or that I never was born.

But the truth is I was,
And now I’m here living,
In a world full of scuzz,
That to me nothing is giving.

So I wonder why I’m here,
As I watch the light show,
And I stare through the dreer,
Feeling more and more low.

But as the rains clear,
My mind does not,
I contain little cheer,
How did I get this lot?

Peace,
Justin